


The Divide

by cupcake4mafia



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, bittersweet endings, relationship fallout, ye olde livejournal fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcake4mafia/pseuds/cupcake4mafia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five of them started sleeping together. It worked for a while, and then it fell apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arashi

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal in 2009 with very minor edits over the years. Extremely bittersweet.

Being completely trashed is not a reason; it’s only a catalyst. Something else must have drawn the five of them this close, overlapping desires and agendas that can only hold together until one piece snaps.

That piece is Nino.

It may be the ninth or the tenth time, there’s a small debate, and Aiba splurges on a nice hotel room. Jun is excited, but the others seem taken aback by the gesture. It’s the first time they are able to do things at their own pace, and maybe that is where the trouble starts, because, from the beginning, it’s awkward. Jun doesn’t realize it, not until Nino practically tears Ohno off of him.

Aiba doesn’t skip a beat, pulling Jun into his lap and guiding him to Sho’s lips. Sho’s hands roam over his torso and his nails dig in all the right places, but he still can’t stop shaking. Aiba rests his face on the back of Jun’s neck and it burns. Jun tries not to look at Ohno and Nino again until they’re all piled under the covers and Nino is nibbling playfully at his shoulder. 

It’s the last night they all share a bed.


	2. Jun

“Kind of like getting picked last for baseball, isn’t it? I mean, Sho always says he’s busy, and, now, Nino and Ohno-”  
   
Jun cuts Aiba off mid-sentence, hugging him close so that he doesn’t have to be so embarrassed when he cries.  
   
“Stop it,” Jun scolds. “If you cry, I have to cry, and that will be a mess.”  
   
“Sorry,” Aiba hiccups. “I cry easily.”  
   
Jun can’t help a tiny smile at that. Aiba says it every time he cries, like Jun hasn’t known him for most of his life. Gathering up a little resolve, Jun leans back and smoothes the hair from Aiba’s face. Aiba looks squarely at Jun’s chest, still breathing in starts and stops.  
   
“Let’s go out,” Jun says.  
   
“Out?” Aiba repeats, surprised.  
   
“You said you haven’t eaten dinner.”  
   
“You want to go out to dinner?”  
   
“We’ll do yakiniku.”  
   
Aiba stands up, nearly knocking Jun off the couch.  
   
“Really?” he asks, smiling through tears.  
   
“Well, we sure as hell aren’t going to sit in my apartment and cry,” Jun says.

Aiba nods, wiping his face self-consciously. Jun gives Aiba a brief kiss before walking to his bedroom. Aiba lingers in the hallway, confused.  
   
“I’m not wearing this outfit,” Jun explains, as though it should be obvious.  
   
He finds himself smiling while he gets dressed, Aiba lounging on his bed and telling him what to wear, as though Aiba would know. It’s a smile that doesn’t wash off all through the taxi ride, while Aiba explains a new segment he’s doing on Shimura with eels, or at dinner, when Aiba finally confesses that Jun has always done his sauces in the wrong order (Jun’s dry “how embarrassing,” is dutifully ignored as Aiba corrects his behavior).  
   
When they arrive back at Jun’s apartment, Aiba is still talking, right up to when Jun shoves the clothes off of his bed and lies on his back with a sigh.  
   
“Oh,” Aiba giggles, suddenly self-conscious. “I should go, right?”  
   
“You should turn out the lights,” Jun says.  
   
“Okay.”  
   
Aiba does this, then crawls into bed, snuggling up next to Jun. Jun’s mind races back to baseball.  
   
“Are you sure you want to?” Jun is able to ask in the dark. “If it’s only me…”

“Jun.”  
   
“I’m kind of a jerk, you know.”  
   
“I think I can handle it,” Aiba teases, agreeing to take the conversation back somewhere safe while his hands slip under Jun’s shirt.  
   
Jun inhales sharply in spite of himself and Aiba chuckles.  
   
“See? You’re easy.”  
   
“I’m easy?” Jun asks, incredulous.  
   
Aiba silences him with a long, lazy kiss. They used to joke about timing Aiba’s kisses, Jun remembers, which resulted in Nino making an extra-crude "A no Arashi" drawing. Aiba shivers and Jun thinks he might be remembering, too. 

“I want you,” Aiba promises, voice threatening to crack again. “For as long as you’ll put up with me.”  
   
Jun answers with a kiss that was once voted by the group as most successfully distracting (though, to be fair, Jun was the tie-breaker). It seems to still have an effect, as Aiba whimpers and tugs Jun on top of him.  
   
“We need to be more naked,” Aiba announces, as though he’s just realized this crisis.  
   
In the back of his head, Jun hears Sho’s laugh.  
   
\---

He grits his teeth against the memories, but they won’t go away; Ohno fucking Aiba, Nino fucking Aiba and how weird that was, Aiba whispering in Sho’s ear about how good Jun was going to make him feel, Sho fucking Nino (which seems entirely irrelevant). He looks down at Aiba, right here, right now, and shudders to a stop. Aiba’s hands dig into his shoulders, eyes pleading.  
   
“Don’t stop,” he begs.  
   
Jun can’t answer, can’t ask Aiba who he’s thinking of. With great effort, Aiba pushes up on his elbows and kisses the side of Jun’s mouth.  
   
“It’s okay,” Aiba says, as calmly as he can. “It has to be okay.”  
   
“We can’t-” Jun starts, but it’s more of a pant than anything else.  
   
“We love each other,” Aiba says, gently rocking his hips.  
   
Jun groans and lets his head hang. He moves again, faster than before, desperate to reach something. Aiba keeps up his chorus of “it’s okay,” between ragged breaths until Jun bends one of Aiba’s knees back further and it turns into a string of curses. Aiba comes first (Aiba always comes first) and Jun quickly follows, collapsing into Aiba’s arms.  
   
“Fuck,” Jun breathes.  
   
“Jun,” Aiba whispers.  
   
Jun’s head is still spinning; replaying images he never really processed to begin with. Aiba moves from under him and reaches for the tissues on Jun’s bedside table, cleaning them both with shaking hands. They hold each other, but they don’t talk.

In the morning, Jun finds Aiba in his kitchen, of all places, and uses the time it takes to unclog the sink to convince Aiba that microwaving instant oatmeal is a very romantic gesture. Aiba goes home to change before he meets his parents for lunch, leaving Jun alone to finish cleaning up. After scrubbing the kitchen and vacuuming the living room, Jun lies back on his unmade bed and picks his novel up off the nightstand. He pretends to read for a few minutes before rolling on to his side and staring at Aiba’s forgotten sock on the floor. He wonders how long they can pretend.


	3. Ohno

Ohno looks at his phone, surprised. Aiba never sends him messages. It’s easier just to call Nino, since he’s more likely to actually pick up.

“Are we going?” Ohno asks, not bothering to read the text aloud.

“You can, if you want to,” Nino answers absently, rearranging his cards.

“Well, I don’t want to go if you’re not going,” Ohno mumbles.

A strange expression flickers over Nino’s face. Ohno hates it when he can’t read Nino, because he knows he’s not getting an explanation. 

“Then we stay here,” Nino says, shrugging.

Ohno opens his phone and writes Aiba back that he’s not feeling well. Nino asks Ohno to help him practice his trick and Ohno does, but his fingers feel strangely slow and heavy.

“Is it your card?” Nino asks.

“It is,” Ohno answers, mostly surprised that he remembers which card he first drew.

Nino puts the deck back in its case and joins Ohno on the couch. Ohno waits for Nino to speak, because it feels like Nino wants to say something. Instead, Nino turns and leans into Ohno’s mouth. Ohno kisses back, slow and sweet, and his hands slide up Nino’s thighs to his waist, just like always.

It’s different, though, when it’s just the two of them. The silence in the room raises the tension in Ohno’s veins, and when Nino’s hands move under his shirt to rest on his back, Ohno almost jumps at the touch. Nino pulls away and stands up, offering a hand. Ohno accepts, letting Nino lead him to the bedroom, letting Nino pull him down on the bed, kissing him again and just barely rocking their hips together.

It doesn’t make sense, Ohno thinks. If this is what Nino wants, then why not go see the others? It’s been almost two weeks since the five of them met.

Met like that.

Ohno is still confused as he works his way past the waistband of Nino’s sweats, wrapping his hand around the familiar shape of Nino’s erection. His mouth muffles Nino’s moans, but Nino’s fingers digging into his back send the message.

“Please,” Nino breathes.

That’s something Ohno does understand, so he doesn’t waste time. He pulls Nino’s pants away and slides back up Nino’s legs to rest right over his hips, breath ghosting over the underside of his cock. Nino’s fingers tangle in Ohno’s hair, tugging gently, and Ohno slides his lips over the head, swirling his tongue to make Nino’s stomach twist, before taking as much as he can.

“I want you to fuck me,” Nino says, bending his knees just slightly as he pushes up into Ohno’s mouth.

Ohno pulls away slowly.

“Right now?”

“As soon as possible,” Nino answers, face red.

There’s a scramble for a moment while Nino finds lube and a condom and Ohno finishes undressing. Then, they’re settled again, Ohno sucking Nino in long lazy movements as his fingers stretch inside.

It occurs to Ohno that usually, when he does this, someone else is touching him. It’s kind of nice, though, to focus on how tight Nino is around his fingers and how every inch of Nino’s skin seems to vibrate when he moans. It’s different than nice, actually, closer to intense.

“I need it,” Nino begs.

“I know,” Ohno says, sympathetic, as he parts Nino’s thighs and presses in.

Nino’s head rears back like he’s in pain, and Ohno suspects that Nino has never really let anyone prepare him enough. His movements quickly become rhythmic, pushing against Ohno’s hold on his hips until Ohno gives in and thrusts.

“Is it good?” Ohno asks.

It’s a ridiculous thing to ask, but every time he does, Nino says “yes,” in such a wonderful way. Nino pulls Ohno down for a sloppy kiss, gasping for air when Ohno changes his angle.

“You’re the only one who does this to me,” Nino confesses, breathless.

Ohno’s thrusts become erratic for a moment. He’s confused and excited and too incoherent to respond.

“Only you, only Satoshi,” Nino continues, closing his eyes and biting his lip as though to stop himself from saying anything more.

Ohno tries to remember the last time in his life he heard “only Satoshi,” but he can’t think of anything fast enough to match the snap of his hips and the whimpers escaping through Nino’s teeth. Right now, as far as Ohno is concerned, Nino could be the only person on the planet, and that would be fine. He could just stay buried in Nino and Nino would keep him there because that’s what Nino wants; because Ohno is what Nino wants, is all Nino wants, and that’s incredibly stupid on Nino’s part but lucky for Ohno.

“Kazu,” Ohno gasps.

Nino links his arms around Ohno’s back and Ohno bites into Nino’s shoulder as he shudders. He feels Nino’s release between them and a pleased smile fights its way across his tired face.

“We both came,” he breathes.

“Yes,” Nino mumbles, still holding Ohno close.

“You love me,” Ohno adds, just as dumbstruck.

“Yeah.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No, it’s not,” Nino snaps, annoyed.


	4. Jun

Work isn’t unbearable, but it is uncomfortable. Moments that would have ended in rude jokes and playful kisses now fall flat. Sho fills the empty space with stock market updates, and no one has the heart to remind him that he’s the only one who invests. Aiba watches Nino’s magic tricks with Ohno. Jun reads manga obsessively, but it’s Nino’s series, so he can’t stay too distracted.  
    
He is surprised and relieved to get a text message from Aiba on Saturday asking him to come over for dinner, he’s even more relieved when Aiba promises not to try any experimental recipes. They eat in front of the television, Aiba snorting at inane variety shows through mouthfuls of noodles. After piling their dishes in the sink, Aiba takes Jun’s hand and leads him down the short hallway.

“Jun likes to shower first, right?”  
   
“If I can.”  
   
“I thought maybe we could take a bath,” Aiba explains, stopping in the doorway to unbutton Jun’s shirt. “I promise I cleaned the tub this morning.”  
   
“For me?” Jun asks, only half-teasing.  
   
“Obviously,” Aiba chuckles, fiddling with the buttons of Jun’s fly.  
   
In the bath, with Aiba’s thighs resting on his and Aiba’s tongue tracing the shape of his lips, Jun’s mind starts to go a little fuzzy. He almost doesn’t register Aiba’s whispers, until:  
   
“We’ve never done this, have we?”  
   
“No,” Jun answers, combing his fingers through Aiba’s hair.  
   
“It’s nice to do things we’ve never done before,” Aiba muses, eyes closed.  
   
Jun agrees by pulling Aiba’s waist to his and worrying the curve of Aiba’s neck with his teeth.  
   
“I think we’re clean,” Jun murmurs. “Don’t you?”  
   
\---

Aiba burns inside Jun. This is something they have done before, but it’s been so long and Jun was never good at relaxing. It’s still good, though. Jun likes things to hurt a little, likes his kisses sharp around the edges. Nino was the same; pushing Sho’s buttons until he got rough, trading carefully placed bites with Jun, even coaxing Aiba into talking dirty.  
   
They should have known, really, by how different he was with Ohno.  
   
“Where are you?” Aiba asks, forehead pressed against the back of Jun’s neck.  
   
“I’m here,” Jun answers, fingers digging into Aiba’s bed sheets for balance as Aiba speeds up.  
   
“I can do whatever you want,” Aiba promises, mouth hovering next to Jun’s ear. “I can do it harder.”  
   
“Please,” Jun moans without thinking.  
   
Aiba thrusts deep and sudden and Jun almost hits the headboard. Instead, he pushes back, desperate. That’s the word that keeps flashing in his mind, no matter how hard they try to fuck their thoughts away. He doesn’t know if they are desperate for each other, for release, or for things they no longer have. He comes with tears in his eyes and he hasn’t done this since he was a teenager. Aiba stays inside him, draped over his back, catching his breath.  
   
“I just want to forget,” he says, voice breaking.  
   
He feels terrible for saying it right now, but it won’t wait. Aiba is gone for a brief cold moment before turning Jun in his arms and hugging him close.  
   
“Don’t. Don’t forget.”  
   
“But it’s over,” Jun says, and it sounds pathetic even to him.  
   
“Everything ends. The show ends, the concert ends, your pets die,” Aiba lists, pausing to press his lips to Jun’s temple. “But, it’s okay. It’s better to have a happy memory than nothing at all.”  
   
“You can’t really believe that.”  
   
“I have to,” Aiba answers, voice softer. 

“I need more than a memory.”  
   
“You have more,” Aiba says, voice rising. “You still have me.”  
   
It’s a question, really, so Jun answers it with a kiss.  
   
“You and I are the same,” Aiba whispers. “We want everyone to love us.”  
   
“Even if we know they can’t,” Jun adds.  
   
“Especially if we know they can’t,” Aiba corrects with a little laugh. “But we can have part of that, right? I mean, you’re part of everyone. I’m part of everyone.”  
   
“I get it,” Jun answers, gently.  
   
“When we slept together, do you remember-”  
   
“You’d say ‘Goodnight, everyone, I love you,’” Jun interrupts, squeezing Aiba closer as though he might disappear.  
   
“I love you, Jun.”  
   
“Say it again,” Jun mutters against Aiba’s hair.  
   
“I love you.”


	5. Sho

Mina came to town again, and Sho finally slept with her. It didn’t help him forget, but, somehow, it did get easier to ignore Aiba and Jun’s phone calls.

It broke his heart to see the two of them try to hold on. He told them it was better to just forget it, because, at the time, he really believed it.

He feels like a hypocrite, now. With so many weeks and so many words between himself and the last time, he still wants it, still wants them all. He sees the way Aiba takes care of Jun, how grateful Ohno is for Nino, and it kills him, because he can’t have it. It wouldn’t even make sense if he could, Sho knows. He’s tried to imagine himself with just one of them and it always comes out laughable.

Sho has plans. Sho has a career. Sho has parents. He knows he’s not the only one, but, still, it’s different. Sho is different.

So, why, now, is he calling Tatsu to come over for drinks? Too-friendly, too-accommodating Tatsu. “If you’re ever curious” Tatsu. 

Sho isn’t curious. Sho knows.

He never understood how the others could just move forward without hesitation. Jun and Nino had been with men before, but the rest of them had not. And, yet, Ohno and Aiba somehow magically knew exactly what they were doing. Sho was the only one who had to be taught how to give head, who got teased over not wanting to bottom, who got laughed at for saying “baby” (even if Aiba argued that it was hot).

Did they all think that sleeping together transformed them into people who hadn’t watched each other grow up? Sho could never really forget Jun being young and awkward and in love with him, and when he finally let Jun fuck him it was completely surreal. He couldn’t understand how Nino, the same kid who used to lick Sho’s food if he wanted it for himself, could possibly share Ohno.

They just couldn’t be this stupid. Sho couldn’t be this stupid. Sho knew better.

But he said yes, because of who they are, and because of who he is. The idea that they all would want him, that they would accept him entirely, even with his inexperience and prejudices, was too overwhelming. He got lost.

Then it ended, with tears, just like he knew it would.

\---

Tatsu shows up five minutes early with a case of beer. He’s nice enough to keep up the pretense, but it’s embarrassingly obvious what Sho wants.

The sex isn’t bad. 

Well, Tatsu isn’t bad. Arashi’s voices keep holding Sho back.

He still doesn’t know what he’s trying to prove.


	6. Jun

They’re in the middle of _To Catch a Thief_ when someone knocks on Aiba’s door. Jun looks at Aiba, confused, because he didn’t buzz anyone up. Aiba shrugs and goes to check the peephole. He turns back to Jun and starts to say something when the knocking comes again. Quickly, Aiba unlatches the door and Sho stumbles through.  
   
“What took you so long?” Sho groans. “I’ve needed to pee for like five blocks.”  
   
“You’ve been walking on the street like this?” Jun asks, appalled.  
   
“Nooo,” Sho sings.  
   
“Great. You’re singing drunk,” Jun sighs.  
   
“Well, go!” Aiba says, laughing and pushing Sho towards the hallway.  
   
Jun settles back on the couch, not sure if his legs are jumpy because he’s uneasy or excited. Aiba sits next to him and groans.  
   
“Rewind, please,” Aiba begs. “I already have no idea what’s happening.”  
   
“That’s because you’re not reading the subtitles,” Jun grumbles.  
   
A door opens behind them and Jun is suddenly very aware of how far away Aiba is sitting. Sho slides between them on the couch, suit jacket gone but tie still hanging on for dear life, and puts an arm around them both.  
   
“What are we watching?” he asks.  
   
“Gene Kelly,” Aiba answers.  
   
“Grace Kelly, for God’s sake,” Jun corrects.  
   
Sho’s fingers play in Jun’s hair and Jun traces the lines of the remote in his lap.  
   
“You know, she married a prince,” Sho says.  
   
“I do know,” Jun scoffs. “I’m the one who told you that.”  
   
“Oh, God, you did,” Sho giggles, turning into Jun’s neck. “What were we watching? Rear Window?”  
   
“Probably.”  
   
“We were. You said Hitchcock was really sexist.”  
   
“I don’t understand anything we’re talking about,” Aiba interjects, laughing so as not to sound too put-off.  
   
“Sorry, Aiba-chan,” Sho says, turning and wrapping his arms around Aiba’s waist, leaning back a little so that he’s still warm against Jun’s side. “I didn’t come here to talk about movies.”

Jun looks down and can see Sho petting Aiba’s hair. Aiba’s eyes are fixed on the TV screen, face blank. Jun slowly shifts so that Sho is entirely in his lap, back to Jun’s chest, and lets his hand rest on Aiba’s shoulder. Aiba flinches at the touch, but doesn’t move.  
   
Sho’s sudden laugh startles both of them, and Jun realizes with a bitter smile that Sho was actually watching the movie.  
   
“Do you guys have anything to eat?” Sho asks, yawning.  
   
“Um, I’d have to get up,” Aiba mumbles.  
   
“Don’t do that,” Sho whines, squeezing Aiba just a little as he reaches his left hand back to touch Jun’s leg.  
   
“You should eat, though,” Jun says. “It would help you sober up.”  
   
“You guys used to love getting me drunk,” Sho says, closing his eyes and relaxing against Jun. “What happened?”  
   
Jun would be furious if he weren’t so confused right now. Aiba gets up, slowly, like when Jun coaxes him out of bed in the morning, and shuffles over to the kitchen, looking in the fridge.  
   
“There’s pasta, but, um,” Aiba stammers. “I wasn’t planning…”  
   
For a moment, Jun thinks Sho may have fallen asleep, but then he sits up.  
   
“It’s your dinner, right?” he asks, looking over the back of the couch.  
   
Aiba nods slowly.  
   
“Oh, shit, guys,” Sho sighs, wobbling as he stands up. “I should go. I should really go.”  
   
Aiba is still frozen with his hand on the refrigerator door. Jun has his hand on his cell-phone in his pocket for what seems like ten minutes before clearing his throat.  
   
“I’ll call you a cab.”  
   
“Oh, thanks,” Sho says. “Thanks.”  
   
Jun stands up and paces the space between the kitchen and sofa while he dials. Aiba leans on the counter and watches the back of Sho’s head. Jun finds Sho’s jacket hanging on a chair and brings it to him as he gives directions to the taxi driver. Sho takes it, his face flushed red.  
   
“I’ll wait downstairs,” he says, heading for the door.  
   
“I’ll go with you,” Jun replies. 

Jun glances over his shoulder on his way out. Aiba gives him a sad little smile.

\---

“I’m sorry,” Sho says, frowning down at the pavement.

“For what?”

“For being drunk, for crashing your thing.”

“We’re home watching movies on Saturday night, you didn’t ruin any big plans,” Jun insists, turned towards the corner to wait for the taxi.

“It’s nice to have someone to do that with, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to leave,” Jun sighs.

“Don’t tell me that unless you mean it.”

Sho says it like a challenge but his eyes are pleading. Jun bites his lip, hard. He never expected Sho to actually acknowledge it, even if he has been drinking.

“Do you really want to come back?” he asks.

“I want to know if the door’s open,” Sho answers.

Headlights light up the road and Jun casts a shadow over Sho’s face. The taxi pulls up and Jun lets the answer come out.

“It’s not,” he says, and the words feel strange in his mouth, like they’re not his to choose.

Sho nods quietly to himself. The taxi is waiting, but he reaches out and Jun accepts. They hug in the smoke of the taxi’s exhaust and Jun can’t remember when he last let anyone other than Aiba touch him.

“I think we can be friends again,” Sho says, the words tripping over themselves. “We just have to remember how we did it before. We’re still together. It’s still us.”

Jun smiles through the tears that were close to falling, because Sho is sweet when he’s starting to sober up. The taxi driver honks his horn at them and Sho jumps, letting out a small, tired laugh before climbing in. 

Jun lets himself breathe for a moment, then turns to face the apartment building.

\---

Aiba opens the door, eyes suspiciously red. Jun toes off his shoes and joins Aiba on the couch, staring at the black TV screen.

“The movie's still paused,” Aiba tells him.

“Sho asked,” Jun starts, afraid to look at Aiba’s reaction. “I told him no. Was that right?”

“Yeah,” Aiba says, and he sounds like he’s been holding his breath. “It’s not like it would be the same.”

Jun nods.

“And I like this,” Aiba continues, lacing the fingers of his right hand with Jun’s. “I really like this the way it is.”

Jun can safely look Aiba in the eye, now, and when he does, he can’t help but smile. They stay quiet like that for a while, until Aiba inevitably starts fidgeting.

“We’re going to have to rewind again,” he apologizes. “I really didn’t pay attention to the last part.”  
   
“Forget the movie. Let’s eat.”  
   
“No! I want to know what happens!” Aiba objects in a pale imitation of anger.  
   
Jun rolls his eyes, turning dutifully towards the television. Aiba settles with his head on Jun’s knee and Jun laughs at him.  
   
“You’re going to read sideways?”  
   
“This would be a lot easier if you would just read the subtitles to me.”  
   
“I am not narrating this movie for you,” Jun scoffs.  
   
“I’ll brush your hair later.”  
   
“I’m not a pony.”  
   
“I’ll give you head,” Aiba suggests, climbing up into Jun’s lap.  
   
“Now you’re not even looking.”  
   
“I changed my mind, no movie,” Aiba says, angling his lips against Jun’s.  
   
“Dinner?” Jun asks, eyelids growing heavy.  
   
Aiba shakes his head, knocking their noses together, and Jun shoves him, laughing.  
   
“I was going to say I wasn’t hungry for pasta,” Aiba whines. “It was going to be sexy.”  
   
“I promise you it would not have been.”  
   
Aiba looks down at Jun, frowning.  
   
“So, you know, don’t feel bad for failing,” Jun explains, grinning.  
   
Before Jun can register what’s happening, he is hoisted onto Aiba’s shoulder and carried away from the couch. Naturally, he scratches like a cat in a bath.  
   
“Put me down right now you fucking-”  
   
“Going down!” Aiba announces, dumping Jun on his bed and pulling his shirt over his head before Jun can finish his rampage.  
   
Jun loses his train of thought.  
   
“See,” Aiba says, leaning in to tug at Jun’s belt. “I am sexy.”

Jun only sighs and lies back, allowing Aiba to undress him. Aiba grunts indignantly and Jun realizes his face is starting to hurt from smiling.


	7. Jun - Epilogue

Aiba has his hand wrapped around them both, his left arm tucked under Jun’s back and his mouth latched onto Jun’s neck. They move easy against each other, slick with sweat. Jun digs his fingernails into Aiba’s shoulders and tries to hold on, to hold out.  
   
“I’m close,” he finally confesses.  
   
“Let’s just do it,” Aiba whispers. “Let’s just come like this.”  
   
“Yes,” Jun gasps, surprised at himself.  
   
Aiba brings them over the edge fast, kissing Jun through his tremors.  
   
There’s always this moment, right after he comes, when Jun really can’t stand to be touched, but Aiba has always kissed him too soon, cuddled too soon, and Jun has always let him. Now they lie tangled together, not in silence but in heavy breathing and Aiba’s half-formed sweet nothings (so good, always so good, just Jun, just us).  
   
“We have to get up,” Jun says gently, pushing Aiba’s damp hair away from his face. “I do not want you stuck to me.”  
   
“You don’t? I think it would be fun,” Aiba teases, smiling wide against Jun’s skin.  
   
“You would get sick of me, eventually.”  
   
“Nope.”  
   
“No?”  
   
“Nuh-uh.”  
   
“We’re still taking a shower, no matter how you answer,” Jun warns him.  
   
“You’re going to wake up super-glued to me tomorrow.”  
   
“I promise I will make you regret it,” Jun says, tugging Aiba’s hair.  
   
Aiba just hums in response, wiggling a little.  
   
“We’re dirty!” Jun groans, unable to bear it.  
   
“Poor Matsujun,” Aiba sighs.  
   
“Get off of me!”  
   
“Mmm, I’m sleepy, now.”  
   
“Masaki.”  
   
“Can’t move. Too comfortable.”  
   
Jun finally pushes, but Aiba squeezes him close.  
   
“Wait, wait.”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Tell me you love me.”  
   
“Aiba, honestly,” Jun sighs.  
   
“I don’t care if you think it's girly. You asked me to do it, too.”  
   
Jun weighs his options and decides to give in, leaning in next to Aiba’s ear.  
   
“I love you.”  
   
“Even when I’m sticky?”  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“Awesome.”  
   
“If I don’t get to wash off in the next two minutes, though, I might have to rethink it.”  
   
“You’re so mean!”

“You knew from the start I was a jerk. I never tried to hide this from you.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were going to make me _wash myself_ ,” Aiba groans.

"I'll wash you."

Aiba giggles, face tucked in Jun's neck.

"What?" Jun sighs.

"You _do_ love me."


End file.
